Those White Jeans Ch. 02

Chris's friends were Bill and Jeff, and the two of them shared the apartment we went to. It was a two-bedroom, but the kitchen was integrated with the large living room, separated only by some standard height cabinetry with a countertop, lending the apartment the feel of a studio. Everything was neat and orderly. Bill and Jeff obviously kept things clean, and Bill even asked us to take off our shoes when we entered, which we didn't mind at all. As Chris had mentioned, there was a ping pong table set up on one side of the living room. The other side was filled with a three-cushion sofa, a matching easy chair, and a television. The bathroom was just to the left of the entrance, behind the kitchen, and the two bedrooms were to the right of the entrance, their doors near to the ping pong table.

There in the apartment, Lisa and I hung close to each other as we normally would. The five of us were all drinking cans of beer from the fridge, just joking around and getting to know each other. As always, Lisa facilitated the conversation. Music played in the background, not nearly as loud as it had been playing at the pub, a welcome change for me.

Not long after we arrived, I started thinking about how Chris would - or even could - make his move on Lisa. The layout of the apartment would allow them little, if any, privacy, so I wasn't sure what he was thinking by bringing us here. Really, Chris's only objective to make this happen would be to get Lisa alone with him for a significant period of time, but in a sense, he had more time alone with her on the pub's dance floor than he could have here in this apartment.

The way I saw it, there were three possible strategies behind whatever Chris's plan was. Option A: He may intend to have me leave the apartment for a while, perhaps alone or perhaps with Bill or Jeff or both. Option B: He may intend to go somewhere together with Lisa for a while, leaving me here with Bill and Jeff. Option C: He intends to get her alone in the apartment while we are all here, but I could think of only one way to accomplish that: unconsciousness. Under some circumstances, the first two possible strategies would be the most likely, but they run counter to my interests. If they leave the apartment, it would be difficult for me to excuse myself and follow or to even find them after they've gone, plus I would be headed into an uncontrolled environment that may allow me no way to see them without being seen myself. On the other hand, if I leave and they stay, then I would be completely cut off from being able to see them within the apartment. Therefore, no matter Chris's plan, the only plan acceptable to me would have to be one that uses the third strategy: unconsciousness.

Luckily for me, our particular circumstances greatly reduced the likelihood that Chris could successfully execute under Option A or B. Lisa and I are a married couple in an unfamiliar neighborhood with three men we just met. Chris must know that either Lisa or I - or both - would object to being split up from each other, and even if Chris doesn't know that, Lisa does. Lisa also knows how absurd it would appear to me if she would even attempt to go along with that sort of plan. Besides, the fact that Chris invited me to come here along with Lisa is an acknowledgement that she and I have to remain together for him to get what he wants.

So it seemed that Chris and I were both better off with Option C. But just in case I was wrong, I knew I had to take control rather than leave the plan to him. Plus I did not yet know how actively Lisa would be assisting him. I concluded that I needed to help create opportunities and circumstances that were in my favor as well as theirs, but I also had to avoid being obvious about any of it. If they figured out that I knew what they're up to, it would all be destroyed.

The first game of ping pong was Bill against Jeff. While they played, Chris, Lisa, and I talked in the kitchen. Chris told us that he just moved back to the city a couple months ago after having graduated college.

"I didn't think you were so young," said Lisa.

"Well, I'm not that young," he replied. "I didn't start college right after high school, and I took several semesters off along the way. I wanted to do some traveling before I begin a real career and look to settle down."

"Travel, huh? Where did you go?" she asked.

"Ontario a couple times. I know that doesn't sound too exciting but I have some family there and the wilderness is untouched in so many places. I get a lot of shit when I say this, but I absolutely love the winter. I don't mind the cold at all."

"Yeah, I don't think I've ever heard anybody say that before," laughed Lisa. "But I did hear that Ontario is beautiful. Quebec, too."

"Totally. I managed to visit Montreal and Quebec City a few times. They're top notch. Reminded me of Europe a lot."

"You've been to Europe?"

"Wouldn't miss it. That's actually where I spent the most time. Iceland, Norway, Scotland, England, France, and a few days in Belgium. Oh, and a weekend in Amsterdam."

"OK, I'm officially jealous."

Mentally I smirked at Lisa's comment and thought, "As if she knows anything about jealousy." In hindsight I realize that it wasn't so much the three of us talking in the kitchen; it was more like the two of them talking while I stood there sipping on my beer, nodding and listening. I had to give them credit, though, because if I hadn't seen them together in the pub, right now I would have no idea that this whole conversation was just part of a ruse. By all appearances, they were just two strangers getting acquainted.

When Chris saw me tip my can high to sip it, he was quick to offer another. What a great host! That's when I knew he was going for Option C: unconsciousness. Perfect.

"Yes, if that's OK. This beer is so good. Is it local?"

"Yep. Jeff works at the brewery, actually, so he gets it on the cheap, and this fridge is always stocked." Chris grabbed another cold one from the fridge and handed it to me.

By my count, Lisa had four Blue Devils at the pub, but she didn't get very far on that fourth one before we left, so this beer that she has in her hand is really her fourth drink. I saw Chris with just one drink at the pub, so this is presumably his second, or maybe his third. I had nearly four full beers at the pub, and had just finished my first one here, for five total. As Chris handed me this sixth beer, it did indeed look like I could easily be set up as the guy who passes out first.

"Thanks." I cracked it open and took a sip. "Bathroom's over here, right?"

"Door's right there."

I did actually have to piss. While in the bathroom I poured most of my beer into the sink. I felt bad about that, but it's one of the sacrifices I was willing to make.

Back in the living room, we gathered by the ping pong table to watch the last few points of the game between Bill and Jeff. Then Lisa played a game against Chris while Bill, Jeff, and I watched and chatted. Lisa won easily, of course. I knew she would. I figured her tennis skills would transfer, plus she has a serious competitive streak in her when it comes to sports. I pretended to drink most of my beer.

"Good game," Chris congratulated.

"I got lucky," replied Lisa. Always the modest winner. I loved that about her. "Who's next?"

Jeff volunteered to give Lisa her next win. I made sure that Chris would notice when I finished my beer. Like magic, he offered another, and I accepted. As he went to the kitchen and opened the fridge, Lisa took her eyes off the game for just a moment to look in his direction, allowing Jeff to score a point. I think she looked at Chris again when he handed the beer to me. After being married for over two years and together for about four, she had an accurate sense of how much alcohol I could handle. I was at or over my limit by now, if she was counting correctly, but she said nothing.

Soon I took another bathroom break and poured out most of this beer, just like the last one, then rejoined as a member of the ping pong audience. I was actually becoming more sober by this time, but they all seemed to think I was getting fairly shitfaced, so nobody pressed me for conversation while we watched the game.

When Jeff finally lost, Bill suggested we play a game of doubles. With five of us present, I volunteered to sit this one out.

"I'll play the next one," I said.

Of course, nobody objected, and their game got underway. Jeff and Lisa played against Chris and Bill. I watched for a little while, pretending to be interested, but I was really just trying to figure out in my head the best place to pretend to fall asleep. The easy chair to my left wasn't an option because it faced away from the ping pong table and toward only the television. The floor is just too weird, plus too uncomfortable to sustain for a duration. I was limited to the sofa. The sofa of course faced the television, but its length ran perpendicular to the ping pong table's, which meant that I could sit and face the ping pong table to watch the game. The transition to passing out would be seamless, and I'd still have a view to about half the room if I opened my eyes. I worried that my movement to the sofa might draw some commentary, but nobody seemed to care as I settled in to watch the game from its far end, leaning against its arm behind me. Again I pretended to take a swig of my beer as I enjoyed the game.

Soon I realized they were all either engrossed in their game or had decided to ignore me, so I put myself into a comfortable and sustainable position, resting my head against the back of the sofa so I could still see the ping pong table. I put my feet up, wedging my heels between the middle and far cushions, and then stabilized the nearly empty can of beer between my legs at my crotch. Comfortable, I pretended to fall asleep.

Jeff and Lisa eventually won the game. It was Bill who first seemed to notice I was asleep.

"Chris, you got him?" he asked.

"Yeah, he's fine. I'll take care of him. No worries."

"OK, cause I gotta get to bed. Sorry. I've had enough punishment for the night."

"Me too," added Jeff. "Do you mind if I crash? I actually have to get up pretty early for work tomorrow. I shouldn't have stayed up this late."

"Of course not. It's cool with you if we hang out and play another game? I still need a rematch one on one against this girl after that embarrassing loss earlier." The double entendre was not lost on me, and probably not on Lisa, either.

"That's fine. Let me just turn down the music a little."

"It was so nice meeting you, Lisa," said Bill.

"You too! Thanks so much for having us here. Sorry about him. We were out walking the whole day, so I'm sure he's just exhausted."

"Yes, nice meeting you."

"You too, Jeff. Thanks for the games."

Soon enough, Jeff and Bill both entered their bedrooms and shut their doors.

"OK. Are you ready for round two?" asked Chris.

"You know it!" replied Lisa. A pause. "Zero serving zero." And with that, I heard the ping pong ball begin bouncing back and forth across the table.

I could now be sure that Bill and Jeff were not accomplices, although it no longer mattered. They may have suspected why Chris brought Lisa and me here, but they didn't communicate that to each other. Otherwise Chris and Lisa wouldn't be putting on another ruse by playing this game. They intended to give Bill and Jeff time to fall asleep before dropping the illusion.

When the score reached 6-3, the quietly playing music suddenly became the only sound in the room. I set my ears on full alert. I heard them whispering to each other from across the ping pong table, but I couldn't make out all the words.

"...check?"

"No...out."

"...sure...he's..."

"...here..."

The direction from which the whispers came changed. Chris and Lisa were no longer across the table from one another, they had come around its side and met in the middle, not far from the end of the sofa.

"Wait...wait."

Silence. Then the smack of a wet kiss ending. Chris was impatient. The movement of fabric.

"Uh," breathed Lisa. "Hang on, hang on, hang on. Fuck." The movement of fabric again.

Lisa walked around to the back of the sofa until she was standing over me to my right. The beer can was gently pulled from my hand, and a moment later I heard the "ding" of its aluminum as Lisa set it on the kitchen counter. Silence again. Suddenly I heard her voice just over my head.

"Honey?" She was not whispering, but her voice was quiet and soft. "Honey?" she repeated, just slightly louder. She placed her hand softly on my right forearm. "Hon."

"I'm telling you, he's out," came Chris's voice from behind her. He was no longer whispering, either.

"Is there a blanket?"

"Right there on the easy chair."

Lisa retrieved the blanket and spread it over me. As she finished, a nearby light switched off. Then silence. It dragged on. I tried to focus my ears on the area of the ping pong table, then the kitchen. Where did they go?

"Mm-hhh," Lisa breathed. She was standing right next to me.

My heart pounded so loudly I thought they might hear it. Blood coursed through my ears. The base of my cock ached deeply. My hand squeezed it through my khakis, giving myself the first sense of relief from all I have witnessed tonight.

"You like that?" Chris asked.

"Mm-hmm," she breathily answered. "Hhm-hh."

What was it that she liked? I couldn't hear anything beyond her reaction to it. But soon the silence was replaced by the sound of fabric sliding across a surface, and then I thought I heard the fabric moving to a short rhythm, but I wasn't sure. I needed to see.

I opened my right eye slightly, as it was the eye furthest from them. The room was slightly darker than I thought it would be after that light was shut off, which was in my favor. I looked to my left, but saw nothing. My nose blocked the view.

"Uhh."

I dared open my left eye, again only slightly. Oh my goodness. My hand clamped down on my cock and pushed downward as fluids surged beneath. Lisa's white jeans, just inches to my left. The V of her crotch so near my head, half covered by Chris's left hand as his middle finger traced her pussy lips and dug at her clitoris through the denim, over and over again.

Against all sensibility, knowing there's a chance both are looking down at me, my eye opened just a little more. Lisa's belly was exposed, her T-shirt resting on Chris's right forearm as his hand explored her bare breasts underneath. Lisa's arms were raised up, her hands probably locked behind Chris's head, giving him ungoverned access to her body.

Lisa drew in air through her teeth, "Ffffffffhh." Chris must have done something. "Hhmp...huhh."

She then very slowly and deliberately brought her hands down to his to give them some silent instructions. Her left hand lifted his left hand away from her crotch, and her right hand grabbed his right forearm to slowly lead it out from under her T-shirt. In careful slow-motion she turned around to face him. Lisa then placed her left hand on the back of his right hand and guided it back to her crotch, pressing her fingers into his fingers, using them as a tool in her own masturbation. Her right hand guided his left hand to her ass and then disappeared from view, probably to grab at his cock.

Lisa's hips began to roll in time with the strokes their fingers made together on her pussy. Just inches from my eyes, I could see the denim at the backside of her crotch tugging...until that large hand on her right ass cheek followed the steep curve down and inward, and then pushed its fingers upward to tease her vaginal opening from behind.

"Oh, fuck!" she gasped.

I almost came when she said that, the word "fuck" drawn out slowly as she breathed it. I let go of my cock and closed my eyes in an attempt to step back from a sensory overload. I could feel the blood pumping through every limb, and my body shook.

"Feels pretty wet," he whispered.

Her voice fell to a whisper, too, and her speech slowed. "Yeah...yeah...hey, Chris?...hhmp!...Chris, I...need you to fuck me...Uhnh...I need you to fuck me."

"Oh yeah?" he teased.

"Uhn!...yeah...mmhh...yeah...we need to fuck. We need to fuck."

Even with my eyes closed and my hands free from my crotch, I don't know how I didn't cum when I heard my wife say those words to him.

"Let's go," he said.

My mind screamed. "What?! Noooooooo!" And then came the question, "Go where?!"

The swishing sounds of their jeans diminished into silence as they walked away. I opened my eyes, but waited to move until I heard some sort of signal. And then, the bathroom door gently clicked shut, and a second later, its lock clicked, too.

I jumped up in a panic, defeated. My gut burned at the reality that Chris was going to fuck my wife where I couldn't see it. I wanted to scream. Now what? What could I do? Anything? Was there anything I could do?

Yes. There was one thing I could do. It was my only option. I went to the kitchen and grabbed a couple paper towels, then tiptoed to the bathroom door. If I couldn't watch them fuck, I would at least listen, with the added bonus that I could stroke my cock and cum as I so desperately needed to. That was the only way I could get through this.

I heard some metal hit the tile floor inside. No doubt that was the buckle on Chris's canvas belt. I guess they were being less careful about making noise now that they were locked in the bathroom. There was some more rustling of clothes, but then a long silence, finally broken by Chris.

"Mmmm. Fuck."

With that, I knew that my wife was just on the other side of that door, on her knees, sucking Chris's cock. I unbuttoned the top of my khakis and pushed my hand inside. I stroked my cock slowly and carefully as I listened.

"That's good. Mmmm. So fucking good."

"Feels pretty wet," she teased, repeating his words from earlier back to him.

"Heh...yes, it certainly does." A short silence ensued, then the pop of an abrupt loss of suction as Lisa's lips withdrew from his cock. "Oh...fuck yeah."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." More silence, eventually punctuated once again by the sound of Lisa's lips losing suction. "My god."

"That's right."

"So fucking good."

"Mm-hmm. It's so fucking hard."

"Fuck yeah it is."

I could actually hear the squishing sounds as Lisa jerked his wet cock in her hand and spoke to him.

"You ready to put it in me?"

"Yeah."

She stroked his cock faster. "Yeah? You want to fuck my tight little pussy?"

"Fuck yeah I do."

And faster still. "Tell me you need to fuck me."

"I need to fuck you. Oh god!...Hmmp!...I need to fuck you...Hmmph! Uhh!"

"Tell me you need to fuck my tight little pussy."

"Fuck...I need to fuck your...Uhh!...I need to fuck your tight little pussy!...Uhmh!"

Lisa clumsily bumped into the cabinetry under the sink as she stood and demanded, "Then fucking do it." A hurried rustling of clothes. "Fuck me, Chris." Items around the sink were moved, and something that sounded like plastic hit the floor. "Fuck me!"

"Uuh!"

"Fuck me."

"Oh, fuck! Fuck! No."

"Fu-."

"Uuuuuuuhhnnnhhh!...Uuuuuuhnnnhh!"

"No, no, no!"

"Uuuuuuhhhnnnhhh!...Hmmmmmmmhhhhh!...Uuuuhhhhh!...Fuuuuuuuuck!"

"Nooo!...Oh, Chris."

"Oooooohh...hhmmh...sorry...hhmmh...hhmmh..."

Stunned at this turn of events, I took my hand off my dick and stood perfectly still. I waited for a signal as to what would happen next as Chris descended from his orgasm. Some seconds later, Lisa began laughing quietly, and then Chris laughed with her.

"I'm sorry," he repeated.

"No, don't apologize. It's my fault. I've been teasing you all night and I took it too far with the dirty talk."

"Not to mention sucking my dick and jerking me off." They audibly kissed. "Once you pulled your jeans down and bent over the sink, it was too much. I couldn't help it." Another audible kiss.